The chamber was still, the aftermath of violence lingering in the charged air. Threadlight flickered from broken consoles and fractured walls. At the center stood Koshiro, Zen, Solas, and Eri—once the Prophet—now free from her golden shell, eyes downcast but voice steady.
Footsteps echoed in the distance.
Brann and Nyra stumbled in through the fractured corridor, bruised and soot-streaked.
"You guys done throwing suns at people?" Brann grunted, eyeing the scorch marks.
Nyra's gaze shifted to Eri. "Who's the girl?"
Zen, sword still in hand, raised an eyebrow. "You missed the part where she was a spooky armor-wearing ghost."
"I was the Prophet," Eri said softly. "But not by choice. My name is Eri."
Brann squinted "Didn't see that coming."
Nyra crossed her arms, wary "And now what? You just… switch sides?"
Eri looked at them with calm, wounded eyes. "I didn't switch sides. I was on the wrong one from the start."
Koshiro, now more composed, took a step forward. "Then tell us everything. About Kain. About the world before this. No more riddles."
Eri nodded and sat cross-legged on the cracked floor of the harmonic sanctum. "Kain was once a god. But unlike the others—gods of creation, order, war, and time—he was the god of entropy. The god of endings."
She traced a circle in the dust with her finger. "He wasn't evil at first. He believed that for something to evolve, something else had to fall apart. That decay was not corruption, but necessary. That balance meant change."
Solas sat nearby, watching her closely.
"But the other gods grew powerful," Eri continued. "They craved dominion, worship, obedience. And Kain… didn't. He loved something else. Someone else."
Her voice dropped. "Lyra."
Zen frowned. "His lover?"
Eri nodded. "She wasn't a goddess. Just a mortal woman. Gentle. Wise. She taught Kain about the world beyond endings. He stopped speaking of destruction. He learned peace. And in doing so, he made the other gods afraid."
Brann's jaw tightened.
Eri's hand trembled slightly as she continued. "They whispered lies. They called Lyra a temptress, a corrupter. They feared her influence. So they stole her."
Koshiro's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"They took her from Kain. Shackled her in the halls of the Upper Pantheon. Used her to bait him into battle. But they didn't kill her outright." She paused.
"They defiled her. Again and again. For days. For sport. As punishment. And then, when her body broke, they cast her from the sky like refuse."
Silence choked the chamber.
Zen's fists curled. Even Solas had no words.
Eri's voice cracked. "When Kain found her… there was nothing left of her light. Only pain. Only ruin. And in that moment, he broke."
She looked directly at Koshiro. "He didn't want justice. He wanted the world to end. The gods. The skies. The cities. The Thread itself."
"Did he succeed?" Nyra asked, voice small.
"Almost," Eri whispered. "He slaughtered three gods before they united. But it wasn't them who stopped him. It was one god. The last who remained true."
She looked to Solas.
"A trickster, a protector, a god with no name now, only legend. Only he was opposing the other gods and that is why the 3 gods whom Kain had killed were avoiding the god of mischief to torment Lyra and do their dirty deeds. He was the one who understood Kain but he didn't want to destroy the world so he had to fight him."
Solas raised an eyebrow. "A god of mischief beat Kain?"
"Yes. Barely," Eri said. "But he didn't kill him. He couldn't. Instead, he sealed him in the core of the world—under the ruins of what was once Asereth. Before the city flew."
Koshiro asked quietly, "Then how am I connected to this?"
"Before that god disappeared, broken and nearly dead, he gave a gift to the world," Eri replied. "His final light. His will to preserve. His essence scattered into the fabric of the Thread. He said someone kind, someone strong, would find it."
She smiled faintly. "You did, Koshiro."
Koshiro surprised "That is why I always felt something when I see the only standing statue of the God in the ruins."
Zen gave Koshiro a sidelong look. "So he's the chosen one. Great."
Eri tilted her head. "You're important too. You… you're not Thread-born. You're not of Kain or the gods. You're something else, a counterweight. I've never seen anything like you."
Zen shifted awkwardly. "Awesome. I'm a mystery."
Brann snorted. "Yeah, that tracks."
Eri smiled, eyes lingering on Zen for a beat too long. "You're… interesting."
Zen blinked. "Wait, are you—?"
Solas smirked. "Ohhh. Someone has a crush on the brooding swordsman."
"Shut up," Zen muttered.
Koshiro elbowed Solas lightly. "Careful. You'll make him blush."
"I do not blush," Zen growled.
Eri just looked down, a faint color on her cheeks.
Koshiro turned serious again. "So what now?"
Eri stood. "Now, we prepare. Kain is stirring. The Fold may be shattered, but others will rise. Cities will fall. Asereth is no longer safe."
"And we fight?" Brann asked.
"We endure," Eri said. "Then we fight."
They stood together, gathered at the core of the ruin, bound by something deeper than Thread. Not chosen, But choosing each other.